


You'd Stop it if you Didn't

by Anonymous



Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Id Fic, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 04:25:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18865669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Mark knows Celine has been unfaithful for a while.





	You'd Stop it if you Didn't

**Author's Note:**

> I really wish this fandom had properly canonised tags. Gah I hate this place.
> 
> I tried to work this into a hurt/comfort thing, but it never happened. H/C just isn't my jam apparently, so here's some unapologetic iddy thing I spat out instead. I've always had this idea, from the scene where Celine turns the entire house on the DA, that she seems to be able to project her emotions and manipulate people that way (and loved how Will just sat there like a fly on the wall, watching the show). If a person can project their emotions, surely it can be used against them. This fic takes that idea to a very dark extreme.

She hated this game that her life had become. She hated sneaking around in the open. It wasn’t even a secret anymore. Mark knew what was going on, even if he didn’t yet know with whom. She was going to wait until she served him the papers before she told him that. But the lawyer needed more time. He needed to comb through the pre-nup to make sure they had everything rock steady before they went forward. He’d assured her it was void anyway, but just in case the judge could be bought off, he needed to be ready.

Mark was gone, but she didn’t know for how long. Not that they ever said more than two words to one another. Which was the entire reason she was leaving.

She wasn’t going to leave for a day at a time anymore. She was leaving for good. First, she changed into something she hadn’t been wearing for two days, and began to throw everything else onto the bed. She wouldn’t take it all - couldn’t; it wouldn’t all fit into her car - but she could pick out the best stuff. Her favourite skirts and dresses, a handful of underwear, the tops that looked the newest. Those, she tossed into the suitcase. She grabbed all of her jewellery, pouring it almost carelessly into the same box, and tossed that in as well. Makeup, she could buy new. She already had some she kept at Will’s place anyway. That would get her by until she could find time to go shopping.

Her wedding ring, she took off, and put on the dresser. Mark could do with it as he wished.

It was all easier than she thought. She’d take the case down to the car, and come back to clear out her reading room. After that, she’d be gone for good.

It almost worked. But she wasn’t expecting to open the bedroom door and find Mark standing in the hall, waiting. 

“Mark, get out of my way,” she said, trying to push past him.

Mark pushed himself more into her way, trapping her in the bedroom. “That’s it then?” he asked, his voice low and quiet. “You think you can just walk out on me?”

“Mark, get out of my way,” Celine repeated, trying to keep herself calm and level. She could not give him anything he could throw back at her. “This marriage is over, and it has been for a very long time.”

Celine didn’t need to give Mark anything. He was already furious with the entire sorry situation. He grabbed the suitcase from her hand and threw it over the edge and into the foyer below. “What’s he giving you that I’m not?” he demanded, stepping closer into her space and forcing her to step back into the bedroom. He saw the mess she’d left in there, clothes tossed everywhere and the dressers all tossed.

“Mark,” Celine said, focusing more on keeping herself calm than trying to do anything that might convince him to get out of the way. 

Mark decided he wanted her anger. He wanted her to give him an excuse to lose his temper. He knew he wasn’t going to get that with words alone, so he slapped her, hard across the face. Celine yelped in shock, and glared at him. She was more angry than Mark had been expecting, and he revelled in the flood that washed over him. She was more than just angry. She _hated_ him. Mark had never hated Celine until that very moment. He’d never felt anything like what he felt in that moment, with all of Celine’s emotions pouring out into the room.

“You fucking whore,” he said. It brought a new surge forward. The room suddenly felt hot with the rage radiating off from both of them. He realised then that Celine had changed into something fresh. He hadn’t been wearing that skirt when she walked out of the house two days earlier. She hadn’t worn that skirt in months, with its cut just tastefully long enough to be modest, but high up enough above the knee to be inviting.

“Get out of my way,” Celine said through clenched teeth. She tried to pull back everything she’d let loose, but it was too late. Mark hit her again, and when she reeled from it, he grabbed her, shoving her into the dresser behind her. “Let go of me!” she shouted.

Mark did not let go. He grabbed both of her wrists, using his own body to push her further into the dresser. She was no longer holding anything back as she fought. Rage and hatred filled Mark’s chest and fuelled his desire.

“Is that what it is?” he asked, pulling both of her slender wrists into one of his hands. He managed to hold onto both long enough to wrestle her around and bend her over the dresser. “This marriage is dead? Let’s liven it up then. It’s been a while.”

Celine screamed wordlessly at him as she tried to push him off of her, but his arm over both his shoulders, with his weight all settled there, kept her pinned to the dresser. The sharp edge cut into her hip, but it was quickly a forgotten thought. Mark reached under her skirt for her underwear, and she kicked while trying to keep her legs together as he tried to pull her panties down. With a growl, he gave up and ripped them to one side instead. She fought back even harder while Mark unzipped his jeans.

“You want this,” he said, trying to keep her angry. She couldn’t be scared, because she’d send that out as well. Mark wanted only her anger and hate. “I should have done this months ago,” he said.

With his dick free, he shoved it into her and freed up both his hands to hold her down. She screamed beneath him as he forced his way inside, pulling on skin so hard it felt like it was tearing.

“I know you like this,” Mark said, slamming into her. “You’d stop it if you didn’t.”

He burned inside her, from the force of his entry. He wanted it to hurt. He shoved her against the dresser, pressing her face into the wood. She tried to push against the dresser to shove him off, but he had all the leverage. He could feel her starting to feel helpless beneath him, so he let go, allowing her to fight back. It wasn’t enough.

“Does he fuck you rough like this?” he asked. “Should I do better?”

That got her angry again. Good. He had something to work with. Celine tried to put her hands between her face and the dresser to keep her face from dragging across the surface. She tried again to push herself off, but Mark pulled her hips up, lifting her feet off the floor.

“Are you this tight for him?” Mark asked. “Say his name. I want to hear it.”

“Mark, stop!” Celine shouted.

Mark pulled her hair, lifting her head off the dresser. “Say his name,” he growled in her ear. He thought her rage might finish him, and he tried to slow down before it happened. He didn’t want to stop. She hadn’t been hurt enough yet.

Neither of them heard the footsteps on the other side of the door until it opened. “Sir,” Benjamin said, stopping in the door. Mark froze as well, surprised at the sudden intrusion.

“Benjamin!” Celine screamed.

“I—I’m sorry,” Benjamin said as he quickly turned and left, closing the door behind him.

“Benjamin, get back here, you coward!” Celine screamed.

She wasn’t scared anymore. She was furious and it and it renewed Mark’s lust. He needed to see her face. It wasn’t enough to feel her rage and her hate. He wanted to see it. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her off the dresser and to the bed, flinging her down on top of the pile of clothes still left there.

“My dick isn’t enough?” he said, putting his weight on her. “You need his too? Should I call him back?”

He forced himself between her knees as she fought back. Now, she could use her claws. Even as Mark shoved himself back inside her, even harder than before, she scratched at everything she could reach. Every ounce of her rage and hate went straight through him, and he gave it all back to her. 

He wanted to tear her shirt open. He wanted to pull that skirt up and look at her. He wanted to see if he’d left bruises. But every time he tried to move his hands, she fought back harder, clawing at his face and neck. She’d take his eyes out if she could. He wanted to let her try. He wanted to ride that wave she just kept giving and giving him. He leaned up just enough to grab onto her skirt and pull it high. Celine screamed from the pain as the fabric cut into her skin. Mark tried to tear it, but it wouldn’t tear. But he could see himself buried inside her. Inside that trimmed bush. She hadn’t done that for him. Not for a long time. He didn’t need Celine’s anger to fuel him now. Now, he had plenty of his own.

“You still haven’t said his name,” Mark said, wrestling Celine down and grabbing her wrists. He tried to hold them above her head, but she was still fighting too hard, costing him leverage. Instead, he pulled her hands down to her hips, pulling hard and shoving her body into his. “Say it, you slut. We’ll call him in here too. You’d like that.”

“Mark, stop!” she shouted again. She knew he wouldn’t. She knew he was using her own powers against her, like he always had. Only now, he’d found a way to hurt her with them.

He let go of one of her wrists, still holding onto the other and pulling her into him again and again and again. She screamed wordlessly beneath him as Mark pulled on her shirt. When it didn’t rip, he bit it, tearing the fabric between his teeth and his fingers and exposing her breasts beneath a bra he’d never seen before. He hadn’t looked at her panties, but he wondered if they were new too. He pulled her bra down, baring her breasts and watching as they bounced freely every time he pulled her. So soft and clean. And not his. Now they were someone else’s. The thought enraged him. He needed to leave this man a message. Mark leaned down and bit one of her breasts, hard. Hard enough that he could taste her blood as his teeth broke her skin.

Celine screamed and tried to kick her way out from under him, but every time he pulled her back, the pain was so harsh she couldn’t think. The wild mix of emotions pouring out of her was too much. She screamed, using her free hand any way she could. It needed to stop. It was too distracting, so Mark pressed his arm into her neck. She forgot about trying to fight back, and started to fight to breathe, scratching and pulling at his arm. With his arm over her neck, he couldn’t pull her like he wanted to, so he quickly shifted to choking her with his hand. He wanted her to come to him. He wanted her to be just as much a part of this as he was.

As he could feel her helplessness, Mark let go and slapped her again. She was angry, she hated him. She was also sad. She was no longer telling him to stop, instead trying to be quiet. She couldn’t let him see her cry.

Mark felt all of it, and he couldn’t keep it up for a second longer. He grabbed onto her, holding her beneath his body as he finished deep inside her. She looked away and closed her eyes, trying to be anywhere else. Mark couldn’t have that. As his hips juttered from the last bit of his orgasm, he slapped her again and grabbed her face, pulling her to look at him. He tried to ignore the fear he felt coursing off of her and through his body. He had just finished inside her. Realising too late what had happened, Celine tried to scramble away again, but Mark held her down, staring at her face.

“No, no, no, no,” Celine said, repeating it again and again as she tried to escape. She knew it was already too late, but he was still inside her and she needed to get away.

Her rage and anger had evaporated, and suddenly Mark needed to flee. She was terrified, and now so was he. He quickly got up, leaving her in the mess she’d made on the bed, and pulled his jeans back up.

“Tell him it’s his,” he said, quickly leaving the room.

With Mark gone, Celine covered her face with her hands and rolled onto her side. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t. Celine had to get out of that house, but she couldn’t move. Mark was still there, somewhere. The only thing that got her moving was the thought that he might actually bring Benjamin back up to the bedroom. She forced herself to get up before that could happen. She took off her panties and straightened out her skirt, feeling dirty from head to toe. She took off her ruined shirt, but all her other ones were either in her suitcase downstairs, or in the pile on the bed. She couldn’t even look at the bed. There was a shawl draped over a chair by the window, so Celine grabbed that and wrapped herself in it. It wasn’t the most modest shawl in the world, but it was better than walking through the house in her bra. Covered as well as she’d get, Celine left the room as quickly as she could without running. The house was quiet, making her footsteps on the stairs seem like they echoed through every room. Pausing only to pick up her suitcase from the floor, Celine rushed out to her car and got inside, immediately locking the doors behind her.


End file.
